


Pitching and Catching

by didipickles



Series: FratPat [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Dirty Talk, Flipfuck, FratPat is back!, M/M, Sexting, Smut, once again it's just like...really filthy dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: David brings out Patrick's fratboy persona after having to host Open Mic Night by himself.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: FratPat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530650
Comments: 30
Kudos: 216





	Pitching and Catching

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olivebranchesandredwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivebranchesandredwine/gifts), [lilbitalexis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbitalexis/gifts).



> for dr. olive, who gave me the flipfuck prompt. you are a treasure.  
> &  
> for karin, who found the reference to the headboard bars a million years ago.
> 
> thank you as always to this-is-not-nothing for reading through and leaving lots of validation and pointing out little fixes. thanks to sam for asking me every other day how this was going, gabe for your enthusiasm for this concept, and the many wonderful people who kept assuring me this was wanted.

Despite all the planning and scheduling and shifting that went into making sure the semi-annual Open Mic didn’t conflict with Patrick’s baseball, David was now on stage, running the evening alone. The scheduled baseball game had been rained out on Tuesday and pushed to Thursday, which is how David found himself introducing Gwen and her very O’Keefe-esque paintings instead of laughing while Patrick did it. 

While Gwen started to describe the deeper meanings within her paintings, David moved back to the counter and checked his phone.

**_From: Husband Patrick [8:57 pm]  
_ ** **We won! Guess we didn’t need Gwen after all. See you at home.**

**_From: Husband Patrick [9:14 pm]  
_ ** **I see the hat. I'm all yours tonight, dude.**

An involuntary shiver ran down David's back at the words. The snapback had become something of a symbol between them. If either of them wanted Patrick's fratbro persona to come out and play, they need only take the hat out of the toy drawer and leave it on the top of the dresser. Sometimes they got there without either one of them signaling for it, and sometimes David got the thrill of walking into the bedroom and seeing the hat staring back at him. 

After the store closed at 5, David had gone home to change for the Open Mic, since it would be in terrible taste to have his “working at the store” outfit be the same as his “hosting an event” outfit. Patrick gave David a passing kiss on the cheek as he headed out, all clad in his baseball costume, looking determined and adorable. And then the thought took hold. David was a bit irritated at having to run the event by himself on such short notice, and he was hoping to get some quality time with Patrick in the evening to make up for it. Patrick always came home from games keyed up, and maybe David could capitalize. Smiling to himself, he’d retrieved the hat and set it on the dresser, momentarily allowing himself to remember the first time they’d fucked when Patrick was wearing this hat. 

Anyway.

Clearly Patrick had gotten the message. Now David had to suffer through 3 more acts before going home to his husband who would hopefully still have adrenaline and testosterone beating through his veins. After all, David deserved a nice good fuck after having to introduce Bob and his beat poetry with a straight face. He wanted Patrick to lay him out and take him exactly how he wanted, calling him “dude” and “bro” and “champ” and utterly wrecking any sense of toxic masculinity David previously associated with those words. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to stick with those thoughts for long, as he was due back on stage to announce a—he shuddered at the thought—improv group. The moment he was done, he shot offstage and grabbed his phone, heading for the stockroom. As much as Patrick emphasized the importance of supporting the community and watching their acts, there was no way in hell he was watching  _ improv.  _ That was a hard limit. 

It ended up being a good thing that he was in private, because when he unlocked his phone, he made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a yelp at the message waiting for him.

**_From: Husband Patrick [9:31 pm]_ ** **_  
_ ** **I got bored waiting for you, so I put this in. I’m gonna be so fuckin stretched when you get here.**

The text came with an attached photo of a sparkly silver plug, sitting innocently on their duvet.  _ Fuck.  _ Patrick was playing dirty, and it killed David a little bit to admit that he loved it. He took a few steadying breaths and then composed a message, keeping his ears open for any telltale signs that the improv troupe (really, a bold claim to call themselves a troupe at all) was wrapping up.

**_To: Husband Patrick  
_ ** **Lots of room for my tongue and fingers inside your hole, huh?**

Just as the crowd in the store started the polite applause that could only mark the end of a truly disastrous performance, David’s phone buzzed again.

**_From: Husband Patrick [9:35 pm]_ ** **_  
_ ** **I’m gonna fuck you while I have this fuckin plug in my ass, dude. Gonna pound you while my ass is stretched wide open and then you’re gonna fuck me so good.**

Jesus. Two acts to go.

Somehow David made it through his next stint on stage and then scrambled to the back room again.

**_To: Husband Patrick  
_ ** **Greedy tonight I see. Can't just get fucked, you need to fuck me too.**

Barely thirty seconds passed before David's phone buzzed and lit up.

**_From: Your Husband Patrick [9:38 pm]  
_ ** **Fuck yeah dude, I need it. I'm stroking my cock on the couch thinking of your tight hole. Wanna get my fuckin dick in there. Wanna fuck you and then get fucked.**

David was starting to sincerely regret his plan to have Patrick find the sex hat while David was still out. He hadn't quite calculated in how fucking  _ filthy  _ his husband got when he slipped into fratboy mode. Then again, there were worse things than having a horny man at home who wanted to fuck David until he cried and then beg for more. Biting his lip, David cast his eyes around the room to try and center himself, which backfired spectacularly when he saw the shelf in the very back corner that still needed to be fixed after Patrick had broken it while trying to sit on it during a spirited makeout. 

**_To: Your Husband Patrick  
_ ** **One act left and then I’m coming home. If I survive that long.**

Patrick’s response was a winking emoji with its tongue out, which David hated because he could picture the same obnoxious face on his own obnoxious husband underneath that obnoxious snapback. He hated the way his dick gave a hopeful twitch at the image. And then he was picturing it—Patrick on the couch, naked, plugged, touching himself. An errant part of David’s brain got caught up wondering if Patrick had put a towel down, and yes. That was helpful. Anything to keep him from completely losing control before having to stand in front of half the town.

The last act was mercifully brief, and David only had to endure about a minute of Roland asking him when  _ he  _ was going to perform in the open mic. 

“You know, your hubby always puts on such a good show. I guess he must be the talent in the family, huh, Dave?”

Eventually he was able to herd the Schitt's Creek residents from the store. Once it was empty, David did the most cursory of cleanups. He’d probably regret the extra work he was leaving for the morning, but then maybe he’d make Patrick do it, as a sort of penance for breaking the very strict “Patrick Runs All Open Mic Events” rule in their marriage. Sure, the rest of the night was probably going to be well worth it, but still. It was a principle thing.

David was rock hard by the time he got home. He'd spent most of the car ride home fixating on the mental picture of Patrick fucking up into his fist and then grinding down against the plug, all the while letting out pants of "fuck dude" and "love it" and "damn bro." 

The idea of it didn't hold a candle to the real thing. David quietly moved to the living room and—there Patrick was. Naked, but for his hat. Flushed down to his stomach. Sweat glistening on his shoulders. Seeing him like this felt almost indecent, like walking into a cathedral with muddy shoes. But then Patrick turned and he saw David watching, and  _ fuck,  _ the most beautiful, sinful grin spread across his kind face.

"There he is," Patrick said in a low gasp. "I've been thinking about you all night. About how bad I want your cock inside me. About how I'm gonna fuck you til you scream my name. About—shit—about how hot you are when you bend over for me." 

David didn't respond immediately. He took his time walking around in front of Patrick, far enough away that he wouldn't be tempted to touch, but close enough that he could see the precome glistening on Patrick's hand as it slid over his reddened cock.

"You gonna make me wait, man?" Patrick nearly hissed, his thumb swiping over his slit. He sounded almost in pain, and David's cock gave a desperate throb in his jeans. "Fuckin' gonna just stand there, huh? Damn, I want you so fuckin' bad dude."

It was intoxicating. David still didn't speak, but he began methodically removing his clothes while keeping his eyes on Patrick. His hand, his face, his chest. When David pushed down his pants and briefs in one smooth motion, Patrick growled.

"Fuck yeah, look at that fat dick, all swollen for me. Can't wait to take that in my hole, I'm so fuckin' stretched for you."

David nodded and stepped forward, bending to retrieve the lube discarded to Patrick's right. 

"Say something," Patrick whispered. Instinctively David knew it was  _ Patrick  _ asking, not his fratboy persona. 

David smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Patrick's lips before standing straight again. "You're gonna watch me open myself up for you, okay? You're gonna sit right there and watch while I get myself ready. Can you do that?"

"Fuck, yeah I am, I'm gonna watch you man, gonna fuckin' stroke this cock and watch." The urgency in Patrick's voice went straight down David's spine to his balls, and David had to bite his lip and close his eyes for a moment. He wanted to maintain some semblance of calm, because he knew it would ratchet Patrick's desperation up even further.

Since it was going to be absolutely impossible for David to keep his face free from emotion, he turned and faced away from Patrick. Breaking the eye contact helped, because Patrick’s intensity threatened to throw David’s plan over entirely. Now that David was looking away and able to focus, he lifted one leg and put it on the couch as he popped the lube open and spread some over his fingers. As he reached behind him and teased at his hole, he could hear the slick sound of Patrick's hand speeding up. It was filthy and enthralling, knowing that his husband was right there, eye-level as David massaged his ass and slipped the tip of his middle finger in. 

"Fuuuuck, dude," Patrick whimpered. The temperature raised at least fifteen degrees as David pushed his finger all the way in and then drew it back out, with Patrick hissing and groaning right behind him. David bent slightly forward, giving Patrick a clearer view as he fingered himself slow and long and deep. And  _ fuck,  _ it felt good, it felt gorgeous—the way he could angle his hand just so, brushing his prostate and making his cock jump. 

David was at two fingers when he felt one of Patrick's pressing in alongside them, and  _ ohmygod  _ that was so hot, they were fingering him together with his ass entirely on display and Patrick's other hand still making squelching sounds as he stroked himself.

"Shit bro, that is  _ so good,  _ you're so tight for me, god I wanna shove my cock inside you."

"Uh-uh," David murmured, pulling his own fingers out and giving Patrick's hand a tug. "Nope, you're gonna stay right there."

He finally turned around, and Patrick looked…he looked  _ wrecked.  _ "I wanna fuck you," Patrick said in a whine. David almost wanted to laugh, except that it was hot as hell how badly Patrick wanted him.

"I know, and you will. But you're gonna stay there while you do." David poured a bit more lube onto his hand and reached down, pushing Patrick's hand out of the way to spread the slickness over his cock. It twitched in his hand, and David lifted an eyebrow. "God, you're eager."

"So fuckin' do something about it," Patrick grunted back. 

And David did. With the kind of practiced smoothness that two years of marriage gave him, David climbed onto Patrick's lap and sank easily down onto his cock, sighing as he did. Patrick was  _ thick.  _ "Oh god," David whispered, hands going to Patrick's shoulders to keep himself steady.

In an instant Patrick's strong hands were at David's hips, holding him firm and nudging him up and down while they adjusted. David almost didn't realize that Patrick had been letting out a string of profanity, and he tried to focus on the sound of Patrick's voice while starting to lift and drop on Patrick's length. 

"—when you do that,  _ Jesus  _ it's good man, just fuckin' ride the shit out of me, uh huh, uh huh, damn your ass is so tight." Patrick's eyes were a little glazed as he looked up at David, but he still looked  _ adoring.  _ It was probably ridiculous to find this so intimate, but David did. Patrick had never gotten to show this side to anyone before, and David loved it, loved having a piece of Patrick that nobody knew about, something just for them.

"Yeah baby? You like when I ride your thick cock?" David's voice was thin, nothing but hot breath and consonants. "Tell me how that plug feels while I bounce on you."

Patrick's head rolled back against the couch, knocking his hat slightly askew. "Feels—shit, it feels amazing. Every time you slide down onto my cock I can feel it pushing up into my ass, getting me fuckin' stretched." 

Nodding, David angled Patrick's backwards hat so he looked even more like a filthy fratboy and leaned down to lick up the side of his neck. "That's exactly right, baby. You're stretching that pretty pink hole for my cock, aren't you?" Just saying it sent shivers over David, and he clenched for a moment on Patrick, drawing a bitten-off shout from him.

"Shit fuck! Yeah, yeah, fuckin' opening up for you, can't wait to get your dick inside me," Patrick moaned. His hips had started to thrust harder, hands clenching David's hips to hold him still while he fucked upward. "Fuck this feels—oh my god, dude, so good."

David kept up his licking and sucking at Patrick's jaw. He loved the way Patrick's body responded to him, and how he knew exactly what to do to take Patrick apart. He moved a hand down to scratch at Patrick's side, and Patrick practically yelped in pleasure as his hips jumped. 

Once Patrick's breath was hard and ragged in David's ear, David pulled back to look him in the eye. "I'm not going to fuck you until you come inside me. I want to fuck your ass with your come running down my legs. And I'm not gonna stop fucking you until you come again. Do you understand?"

And  _ fuck,  _ Patrick looked so gorgeous as he registered what David had said. His eyes were almost blinding for the light coming from them. "Yes, yes, fuck David, fuck dude that's  _ so fuckin' hot,  _ gonna come inside your perfect ass and then you're gonna fuckin' pound me, oh my god, shit man, please, please, yeah…" Patrick's words faded into grunts, his whole body seeming to focus entirely on where he and David were connected. David held tightly onto Patrick's shoulders and watched, unable to do much else as Patrick held him and thrust over and over. 

"C'mon baby, give it to me, give me that hot sticky load," he murmured at Patrick's ear, knowing it would do the trick. When Patrick got like this, the kind of words that made him blush in broad daylight set him off like a rocket. Sure enough, Patrick made an almost wounded sound as he jerked his hips up a few more times and went over the edge, coming deep inside of David.

"Fuuuuuck, dude," Patrick groaned, his head tipping forward and pressing the top of his hat into David's chest. His hips spasmed up a few more times, pushing his come deeper and making David twitch on top of him. "That was…damn. Oh my god."

David stroked up Patrick's sides as he came down, his own cock throbbing against Patrick's stomach. "You did so good, such a good job filling me up. But I'm not done with you, am I?" 

With another groan and shudder, Patrick pulled back and looked up at David. "No, you're not. Just—fuck. Gimme a second to breathe." He smiled then, a bit dazed. God, he was  _ gorgeous.  _

"You're so pretty right after you come," David murmured, grinding forward on Patrick's spent cock and pulling a whine from him. "Don't get soft, you're gonna come for me again. You're gonna stay hard while I fuck you, aren't you?" Patrick kept gazing up, starry-eyed and face slack. "Aren't you, baby?"

Finally, Patrick nodded. He gripped David's hips and lifted him off. "Yeah man, yeah. Gonna—fuck, gonna stay hard for you." 

“Mm, that’s good,” David replied as he stood. He could already feel a trickle of come dripping down his leg, filthy and visceral and delicious. A momentary flash of panic pierced the moment as David thought about their bedsheets, but he pushed it down. They could move laundry day up. Instead, he pulled his focus back to his own very hard, very sensitive dick. Patrick was still seated on the couch, and David reached out and readjusted the hat “Now, you’re going to get up and get on the bed. I want you on your knees, leaning forward and grabbing the bars. Understand?”   
  
Patrick blinked a few times, obviously still in a hazy post-orgasm glow. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said, which was very nice but not helpful for David’s plan.

“Thank you. Now, go get on the bed, or you’re not getting my cock at all. Do you understand?”

That brought Patrick out of his daze. David watched him stand and wince, reaching behind him, and  _ no.  _

"Don't you touch that," David warned. "Your ass is mine now. The plug comes out when I say so."

"Hell yeah, dude," Patrick whispered, stepping forward and kissing David. It was messy, all desperation and no finesse. Fuck, and then Patrick pressed closer and rubbed against David's thigh, smearing leftover come against him. His cock had barely softened at all, and now he was  _ humping David's leg  _ with his own come _. _ David thanked the sex gods for probably the millionth time for his husband's nonexistent refractory period. 

David let the kiss go on until Patrick was making tiny needy whines in the back of his throat. Carefully, David put his hands on Patrick's shoulders and nudged him backwards. "Bed. On your knees. Holding the bars. Go."

Watching Patrick stumble away down the hall was  _ hugely  _ gratifying, and David gave his own aching dick a few harsh tugs. It would be so, so easy to let go now, follow after Patrick and listen to him beg and paint his back with come. But no. David had a plan. Patrick was always making plans and following through, and now David was going to do the same. He wanted to wring out every bit of pleasure from Patrick, to make him shiver and shake while he called David "dude" and "man" and "bro." It shouldn't be hot, it  _ really  _ shouldn't, but fuck. It was. 

David waited long enough that he knew Patrick would be squirming on the bed before he walked down the hall to their bedroom. When he stepped inside, all his breath came out in a loud  _ whoosh.  _ Patrick was doing exactly what he said, facing the head of the bed, bending forward on his knees with his back arched and ass out. David could see where the muscles in Patrick's arms stood out from the effort not to let go of the bars on the headboard. The silver plug was perfectly in place, moving slightly as Patrick shifted and strained. And the hat. That fucking ridiculous, gorgeous, stupid hat. 

"Look at you. You're aching for it, aren't you?" David cooed as he climbed onto the bed behind him. "Just desperate for me to get inside you."

"Yeah, yeah," Patrick panted, twisting to look over his shoulder. "Fuck dude, you have no idea how thirsty I am for it."

“I think I have a little bit of an idea.” David dropped down so he could kiss and bite up the backs of Patrick’s thighs. How many times had David gone to his knees to worship these legs? He could do it fucking  _ daily, _ but it would never be enough. “Love these thick thighs of yours,” he murmured into the skin before latching on right below Patrick’s left asscheek. He sucked and nibbled until he knew there would be a mark, and then pulled back. “Mine.”

“Shit,  _ yeah,  _ yours. All yours. Please, c’mon man, I need it, need—something, anything.” Patrick wriggled and arched his back further, begging with his entire body. Glorious.

Instead of responding, David pushed up slightly and licked around the base of the plug, working his tongue in alongside it. Patrick’s hand flew back and tangled into David’s hair, gripping hard and shoving his ass back. David’s tongue kept working around the base and then teasing down to Patrick’s balls and back up, all while Patrick whined and writhed and tugged at David’s hair. They knew each other inside and out, so David knew exactly how much to give Patrick and how long to withhold, when to grip his balls tight and when to tenderly stroke the inside of his thigh. When he had Patrick alternating between purring and cursing, David finally sat back and gingerly removed the plug. 

"Ohhhh my fuck," Patrick cried, immediately pushing back against the empty air, his stretched hole clenching at nothing. 

David reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, but the lube wasn't there. Right. Patrick had used it in the living room to plug himself up for David. A devilish smirk crossed David's face. He leaned up and kissed the back of Patrick's neck, knocking the hat a bit. "You took the lube to the living room, so I need to go get it. And you're going to stay  _ right here  _ and wait. Understood?"

"Fuck, I need it  _ now  _ dude, I need it right now," Patrick whined.

"You. Are going. To wait," David murmured into the side of Patrick’s neck. He licked up to Patrick’s ear. “Tell me you understand.”   


“I…understand.” Patrick’s voice could do so much: tease, troll, console, confide, assure, beg, praise. David loved how right now, Patrick’s voice so perfectly echoed his body, the way he was entirely giving over but desperate beneath it all. “Just—please hurry.”

David kissed his neck once more before getting off the bed. “Don’t let go of the bars. I’ll be right back.” The walk to the living room helped David center himself and focus. Patrick was being good, and David always loved to hear Patrick beg, but hearing it with this fratboy persona was…a lot. Good. So much.

He retrieved the lube and came back to see Patrick exactly as he’d left him, ass out and straining to keep a hold on the bars. His hips were doing a little swivel, and David could feel the need all the way across the room.

“Good job, baby. You ready for me to fuck you?”   
  
Patrick gave a determined nod over his shoulder, nodding. “So fuckin’ ready dude, I want your cock in my hole so bad, filling me up. My come is still inside you, yeah?”

“Look,” David replied, turning around and bending forward slightly so Patrick could see the trail of it dripping down his thigh. Looking back so he could watch Patrick, David swiped up some that had dripped down and pushed it back inside himself. “Gonna fuck you while I’m full of your come.”

“Please, please please please, want it, fuck,” Patrick panted, bucking his hips back at the empty air.

In moments David was behind Patrick again, pushing two fingers of lube into his waiting hole. He spread some more over himself and then used one hand to hold Patrick’s waist and the other to position himself. Watching his cock slide in, David pressed his forehead into Patrick’s back. “Open up for it, there you go, that’s it.”   
  
Patrick made a few breathy sounds and relaxed around David, letting him slide the rest of the way in. “Oh  _ shit  _ bro, that’s fuckin’ deep, fuck.”

“Mhm, that’s right, so good, take it baby. Is your cock still nice and hard?” David asked, reaching around. And yeah, yep. Very hard. Fuck. Patrick’s cock was slick from lube and come and he slid perfectly into David’s fist as David set a pace fucking into him. “That’s it, fuck you feel good, oh my god Patrick I can feel your come  _ dripping  _ out of me with every—fucking—thrust, god that’s so hot.” Every time David drove forward into Patrick, his own hole tightened and pushed out a bit more of Patrick’s come. It was gorgeous and  _ filthy,  _ dribbling down his crack over his balls and between his legs and down his thighs. Physical evidence that said  _ Patrick was here.  _

"Fuck—me—fuck—me." Patrick was steadily chanting as he used his grip on the bars for leverage, thrusting back onto David's cock while David held his hips. God, Patrick was  _ hot  _ and  _ desperate  _ and so tight with every single clench. 

"I'm already close baby, need you to come for me first, I know you can do it, go on, fuck my cock and come for me," David murmured at Patrick's ear, scratching up and down his sides. 

"Yeah, fuck yeah dude, just—fuckin' let me use your cock, let me fuck myself on it." And he  _ did,  _ grinding back on David over and over while fucking forward into David's fist. David could feel the tension in his body gather, could feel Patrick getting closer and closer to the edge, momentarily thought of how he'd need to change the pillowcases too, and then jerked back to the present when Patrick's voice went guttural and wordless. The pressure on David's cock tightened for a few seconds while Patrick gave two more thrusts back and forth, and then Patrick spilled over David's hand and the sheets and the pillow.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it Patrick, gonna come inside you now," David muttered.

Patrick was still shaking when he looked over his shoulder and nodded. "Hell yeah, dude, fuck my ass, fuck all your come right inside me, gimme it bro, fuckin' fuck me so fuckin' deep, want it."

David closed his eyes and pushed his forehead into the back of Patrick's neck as he sped up, barely pulling out before fucking back in, chasing the sensation that was so close, so fucking close— 

"Patrick,  _ fuck!"  _ David cried as he came, deep and hard, the pleasure echoing through his entire body. His nails dug in hard at Patrick's waist, holding tightly as he felt another wave of his orgasm sweep through him. "Ah, I'm, ohmygod," he whispered, lips brushing between Patrick's shoulderblades. "I can't—I need to— _ Patrick. _ " He stayed right where he was, pressed into his husband and leaning forward onto him, feeling the way their shuddery breaths aligned.

It took the menacing specter of being glued inside Patrick that finally had David pull out. He winced at the sound, and then fell over onto his side. Immediately he reached up and eased Patrick's fingers from where they still dutifully held onto the bars of the bed.

"Hey, c'mere, c'mere…" He pulled Patrick carefully down into his arms, wrapping him up and electing to ignore the fact that they both had come on at least 50% of their bodies. "How are you doing?"

Patrick shifted a bit in front of David to take his hat off and toss it somewhere into the room, then burrowed back against him. "M'good…you were so good, oh my god."

" _ You  _ were so good, honey," David whispered, grabbing Patrick's hand and lacing their fingers together. "You're always so perfect." 

David wanted to stay there, wrapped up around Patrick, their breaths slowing together, but he also had just made Patrick come twice. 

"Stay here, okay? I'm just gonna go get some water. Then we can take a shower and I'll clean you up, okay?"

Patrick had already started to drift, so David kissed his neck and carefully pulled back. As soon as he stood he knew his whole body was going to ache tomorrow. Then again, looking down at Patrick all curled up and satisfied and sated, he couldn't really be too bothered.

He came back from the kitchen with two glasses of water and crouched down in front of Patrick's side of the bed. Fuck, his thighs already burned. "Hey honey, I need you to drink, okay?" Patrick made a frankly ridiculous adorable growly sound and kept his eyes closed. "C'mon Patrick, I need you to drink for me."

"Can't drink. I'm dead. Got dicked down too good."

David snorted and stood up, leaving the glass on the table. "Worse ways to go. You need to drink or I'm going to pour this glass on you and call that your shower."

Patrick cracked a suspicious eye open and then snuffled and groaned as he pushed up to a sitting position. "Fiiiiiine." He kept his eyes on David as he drank half the glass. "Mm. Good call on that." Patrick set the glass down and reached up. "Need you to drag me to the shower."

"We both know I couldn't drag you anywhere," David replied, but he pulled Patrick up and into a hug, nuzzling into his neck. "I love you."

"Mm. I love you too. So much."

An hour later, after a giggly shower with soapy kisses and a cut-down skin routine, David was nestled back against Patrick on fresh sheets. Their legs intertwined the way they always did, like they were trying to soak into each other and fuse and mesh.

Patrick stroked David’s chest absently as he finished telling the heroic ending to the baseball. "So, tell me about the Open Mic." 

David closed his eyes and settled further back into Patrick, exactly where he was supposed to be and more convinced than ever that sports definitely served a purpose.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @thedidipickles and twitter @didipickles2


End file.
